


What's For Breakfast?

by LiquidLobotomy



Series: A Good Man Goes to War [5]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book: Shadows Rising - Madeleine Roux Spoilers, Fairshaw, Galeheart hates Flynn, Hurt/Comfort, I have no knowledge of sailing or ships, M/M, Now I want crab claws, Platonic Bedsharing, Pre-Relationship, Treasury Heist, books within book, brief mention of flynn and tae's past, possible canon divergence, pre-fairshaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27432358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquidLobotomy/pseuds/LiquidLobotomy
Summary: "Your capture nearly destroyed him. Too many times, Tandred had to drag him back to the keep from the bottom of a bottle. And when we told him you were coming home? He lit up like there wasn’t a tomorrow and simply asked what was for breakfast."Set between the Treasury Heist and Shadows Rising.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Series: A Good Man Goes to War [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923286
Comments: 15
Kudos: 33





	What's For Breakfast?

**Author's Note:**

> _Today is a winding road  
>  Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know  
> Today I'm on my own  
> I can't move a muscle and I can't pick up the phone  
> I don't know _  
> Recommended Listening for the next two parts of the series: Thunder - Boys Like Girls

@}-->\--

Taelia Fordragon closed her eyes and let her head fall back as the wind whipped through her hair. Too long had it been since she’d been able to ride her gryphon, Galeheart, for leisure and not into the fray of a hardened battle within Tiragarde Sound. She sent up a blessing to the Tidemother for the day’s reprieve from duty.

The day started early, her cadet’s inner clock not stopping her waking at first light. She had made a small list of things to do to make the most of the time to herself. It had been a while since she had been down to the Hook Point market. She knew she had a book order that was overdue for pickup, so she decided to head down there for an early lunch and some parchment-film for her S.E.L.F.I.E. camera as well. She even indulged herself in popping into Ruff Waters to pet a few of the pups up for adoption (and possibly giving a little more attention to hyper little Who), asking old Seth how his granddaughter, Melli, had been fairing in her studies.

They touched down at the Tradewinds gryphon roost, handing the reins to Joan along with a gold coin. Taelia took a deep breath as she gently stroked the soft down of Galeheart’s cheek apologetically.

“I know, girl,” she murmured to the gryphon, holding out an apple from her satchel. It was snatched up by the bird’s beak swiftly. “We’ll go back out in a few days if the winds be fair. Besides, your friend comes back today.” The gryphon shook her head and shot a nasty glare at the girl, earning a hearty laugh.

Galeheart did _not_ like Flynn Fairwind, and as it turned out, the feeling was grossly mutual.

Taelia started off for the harbor at a casual pace, enjoying the soothing, salty breeze coming in from the bay. Midsummer was nearly at its end and soon the warmth that spread through the harbor would give way to cooler weather as Hallow’s End would be approaching swiftly. The leaves would turn, the residents of Boralus would be hanging wicker men in their windows, and she’d be digging her scarves and winter gear out of storage.

She approached the _Middenwake_ , the ship just as much home to her as it was to it's owner, taking a glance at the expedition table nearby. The maps that were usually strewn haphazardly against the sanded wood were scrolled into a crate nearby and in their place was a sign that read ‘ _Expeditions halted until further notice by the Admiralty_ ’ in her best friend’s scratchy scrawl. How anyone could read Flynn’s abysmal handwriting aside from Cyrus or herself was beyond her comprehension.

She moved over to the gangplank and looked for any sign of life. She knew Flynn well enough that he wouldn’t leave the ship completely unattended, and sure enough she spotted Swailes swabbing the deck. She crossed the rickety board, careful to not mess up his chore and smiling warmly as he looked up to greet her.

“Hey, Miss Taelia,” he said nervously. “Captain’s not returned yet.”

“Yeah, I know he’s not due for a bit.” she replied sympathetically. “I’m off duty for the day, so I thought I’d take my lunch up the nest.”

Swailes leaned on the mop and swiped at the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Say, if that’s the case, would you mind if I popped down to the market stalls for a bite myself? Just to bring it back, mind.”

“Of course,” Taelia nodded. “He can answer to me if he has any qualms.” The boy’s face lit up as he propped the mop against the main mast and scurried off the ship towards the food stalls behind the Snug Harbor. She shook her head with a giggle; Taelia had known that Swailes had been sweet on her for quite some time, and it broke her heart just a little that she couldn’t return those feelings to the scrawny, young man.

She secured her pack from her hip to rest behind her in order to climb the mast up to the crow’s nest. Once on the platform, she settled against the mast and unloaded her spoils: her camera, a flagon of fresh lemonade, the two books she picked up from Scribes and Nobles ( _Darkness Ascending_ by Madison Rouge for Flynn, _Proper Harbingers_ by Telford Pritchett and Niall Goodwin for herself), and a fat brown paper pouch filled with fried garlic butter soft-shell crab claws from Bo’s Shack. Popping a crunchy claw into her mouth and licking her fingers, she flicked open her S.E.L.F.I.E. to load it with the parchment-film, clacking it shut before opening the flagon of lemonade. She took a gulp of the bright, citrusy drink, the taste a complimentary mingle with the briny crab. 

Taelia took a cleansing breath, basking in the laziness of the early afternoon. She lifted her camera, looking at the bustle of champions, soldiers, and commonfolk scampering about the harbor, snapping a few candid shots as she munched on another crab claw. Her viewsight on the camera fell on the ship moored next to the ‘ _Wake_ , the Alliance flagship, the _Wind’s Redemption_ , and she grinned broadly as she snapped a quick shot of her best friend leaning against the rail with a natural ease, next to the Alliance’s spymaster, Mathias Shaw.

“Ahoy, Captain!” she called, setting her camera next to her. She watched as Flynn clapped the older man on the back and hurried off the ship, jogging around the harbor to board his own, scurrying up the rungs of the main mast to join her in the nest.

“And just _what_ in Tide’s name are you doing in my crow’s nest, Tae?” he chided merrily as she gave him room to settle next to her. “Are those crab claws?” he asked enthusiastically. 

“Fresh from the Shack,” she quipped as she plopped the sack between them. She noted the way he plucked a claw from its brothers and popped it into his mouth, sucking the butter from his thumb and glancing over to the other ship. “So, how’d it go?”

“Hm?” Flynn drew his attention back to her, swallowing the succulent meat. “Eh, not as I had hoped.”

“I was talking about the Lord Admiral’s mission,” she said pointedly.

“Oh, that,” he remarked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Went off without a hitch. I’m sitting up here with you, aren’t I?”

Taelia stifled a snort. “What did you think I was talking about?” She peered around him, glancing down at a completely oblivious Shaw, who was busy delegating requisitions to a group of champions. She lifted her eyes back to her friend with a smirk. “Are you making _moon-eyes_ at Spymaster Shaw?”

“Oh, come off it,” Flynn groused. “I swear on my honor as a gentleman, the whole affair was completely professional.”

“Uh huh,” she teased. “Is that why you’re still ogling him?”

“I do _not_ ogle,” the captain protested with a scoff, glancing over at the ship nonetheless. “He is a bit fit, though.”

Taelia shook her head. “You’re hopeless, you know that? That man doesn’t seem to hold the slightest bit of interest in _anyone_ , Flynn. I’m willing to bet he even rejects his own hand.”

The pirate folded his arms in a huff. “Now you’re just being filthy, Tae,” he muttered in indignation, stealing another crab claw.

“Yeah? Look who my teacher was,” she admonished. She grabbed one of the books next to her and handed it over to the captain. “I managed to pick this up for you, by the way.” 

“Oh!” Flynn exclaimed with a brightened smile. “ _Darkness Ascending_. Been looking forward to this one. An assassination attempt on an empress, nobles torturing commonfolk, a bunch of scourge pissing off a death titan… oh, and somewhere, there’s a saucy romance that I hear is quite the scandal.” He made a show of waggling his eyebrows as he nudged the girl. “It’ll surely pass the time when the expeditions start back up.”

“Tell me you don’t just sit on the ship and read when you’re on azerite runs,” Taelia scolded with a roll of her eyes.

“These champions are fairly seasoned now. I really don’t have to do much but look after the ship. And as long as the old girl is tucked in a safe spot, I don’t have any trouble if Rez’o-fuck happens to be scouting the same area.” He glanced around her to spy the other tome sitting next to her. “What’s that one?”

“ _Proper Harbingers: the Right and Detailed Foretellings of Agatha Natter, Tidesage,_ ” she read from the cover.

“You mind if I pilfer that when you’re done reading it?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t accidentally lose it to the Tidemother when you’re out on an expedition,” she ribbed. “You can polish these off,” she gestured to the bag between them, only a few of the claws left.

“Much obliged,” Flynn nodded with a sigh. “I should probably check in with the old man,” he grumbled. 

“Yeah, I should leave you to it,” she concurred. “Seems I have a book to read.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the captain’s cheek with a one-armed hug. “Glad to have you back, Flynn.”

“What do I always tell you? Safe as a well-guarded keep, me.”

Taelia shoved the book, camera and flagon into her satchel and swung it across her shoulder again before turning and lowering herself down the rungs of the mast, hopping onto the deck at the last one. She waved back up the crow’s nest at the ship’s captain as she crossed the gangplank onto the solid ground of the harbor.

She walked with little urgency, pulling her S.E.L.F.I.E. out of her pack and extracting the parchments of the photographs she took earlier, flipping through them on her trek back to her flat. She came upon the last snapshot she took of Flynn and stopped in her tracks at the entrance to Cyrus’ office. 

Taelia inspected the picture closely. Her eyes flicked past Flynn, leaning casually over the rail and looking off into the distance, to the figure next to him, Master Shaw, and furrowed her brow. He stood next to him at the rail, his attention drawn to the captain with an expression that she could only describe as _fond_.

How did she not notice it before?

She looked up towards the _Wind’s Redemption_ , scanning the deck for the spymaster. There he was, leaning against the main mast, with one arm folded against him, the other with his hand lifted and stroking his goatee, lost in thought.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered with complete and utter awe.

“It’s not that bad, love, once you get used to it.” 

Taelia startled at the voice and whipped to find the source. A rail thin warlock with a shock of scarlet hair stood to the side of the harbormaster’s office, his eyes hidden behind a pair of shadow-goggles and a smirk on his face. A small, fiendish imp crouched on his shoulder, cackling.

“Now, that’s not polite, Hastur,” the warlock chided the demon. “Lovely day, innit?” he asked Taelia with a slight nod, indicating that he may have winked.

At that, she shoved the S.E.L.F.I.E.S. into her pack and rushed into the building, taking the steps two at a time to the flat she shared with Cyrus, slamming the door in her wake.

@}-->\--

Taelia lounged across her bed, lazily reading a book when the bell sounded across the harbour, alerting a mooring ship. She marked her place and lifted from the mattress with a stretch, poking her head out the window to peer down the line of berths, finding the _Bold Arva_ pulling into dock.

She rushed out of the flat, her feet sure as she flew down the steps, sprinting across the harbor and skidding to a halt when she found her best friend barrelling towards her. He pushed past her brusquely, shocking her in his wake.

“Flynn?!” she called behind her, but he didn’t turn. He instead took the stone steps two at a time and ducked around the corner, heading for the gryphon roost.

Taelia stood rooted to the spot. Never, not once in all the years she had been acquainted with the man, had he _ever_ blatantly ignored her when he moored his ship upon returning home from a contract. He may have made himself scarce for a time several years ago after a rather personal incident between the two of them, but when he returned from his very next job, he still waited on the deck of his ship for her to greet him back to Boralus.

She turned and cautiously made her way to where the _Arva_ was being secured, finding the atmosphere not the joyous exultation of being home, but that of somberness and _dread_. She crossed the gangplank, noting how the crew went about securing rigging mechanically. 

Like someone had _died_.

Her eyes fell on Melli Spaulding, sat on the steps between decks leading towards the door to Flynn’s cabin. The tidesage was sunburnt and her hair was frazzling out of its usually pristine braid. The larger girl gulped water from a canteen, trying to catch her breath.

“Melli?” Taelia asked gently, wincing when the tidesage startled. She approached with caution, kneeling on the step below her and placing a concerned hand on her knee. “What happened?” Taelia felt a frozen knot in her gut at the exhausted and haunted expression upon Melli’s face.

“Master Shaw was captured,” the other girl said hollowly.

Taelia’s heart dropped into her stomach, her mouth falling open in horror. She took a step and settled next to the Kul Tiran, placing an arm around her and glanced back down the harbor towards the stone steps. 

A tear fell down her cheek as her heart broke for her best friend in all of Azeroth.

@}-->\--

“I don’t care if you have to drag his arse back here by his boar’s tail, I need him back here to fill these fucking contracts,” Cyrus growled, waving a stack of parchments before slamming them on his desk.

Taelia sighed. With the azerite runs dwindling due to the armistice, the normal cargo contracts going in and out of Boralus had piled back up. She knew that Cyrus relied on Flynn to fill the majority of the more sensitive jobs, but he’d all but disappeared since returning from the mission that sent the Alliance Spymaster to a Zandalari prison cell.

“If I knew where he was, Cyrus, he would be here _now_.”

The old man tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re not fucking around with him again, are you, girl?”

Taelia’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open before her face screwed up in indignation. “How dare you even suggest… no, Cyrus!” she protested. “And even if I _was_ , I’m old enough now that it would be none of your business!”

“Watch your tongue, Tae. You’re still under my guardianship.”

She pursed her lips in disgust at the implication. “I’ll see if I can round him up and dry him out,” she spat, turning on her heel and marching out of the office.

Taelia stormed down the harbor towards where the _Bold Arva_ was berthed, the anger ebbing as she took in the sad sight of the ship. Most of the crew had taken shore leave, spending time with their loved ones or taking small odd jobs around the city until they were called back to the ship. It broke her heart to see the girl vacant, remembering how exuberant Flynn had been at acquiring her, now silent like the grave. She crossed the gangplank reverently, placing her hand on the mainmast, lifting her head to gaze up the rigging and sails.

“You didn’t deserve this, old girl,” she whispered to the ship sadly. The wood creaked against a soft wave in response.

“Miss Taelia?” she heard from the door leading below deck, finding Swailes approaching her cautiously.

“Swailes? Have you been here this whole time?” she asked reproachfully. 

“Aye,” he replied with a shrug. “Someone here has to look after her.”

Taelia blew out a breath. “Has he come back at all?”

“No, Miss,” Swailes answered sadly with a shake of his head. “The captain won’t come near her.”

Taelia felt her heart clench. She’d only glimpsed the ship’s captain a few times since returning from Zandalar, but he would slip away before she could get near enough to try and speak with him. She could only imagine him ghosting around his ship, only to turn his back on the old girl and the only crew member willing to stay with her.

“I’m so sorry, Swailes,” she said with a heavy sigh. She looked out across the harbor, hoping she could catch a flash of the chestnut boar’s tail or the leather duster moving around the dock. Her eyes stopped at the sight of another flagship moored several berths down: _Tiffin’s Melody_. 

“Hey, Swalies? You wouldn’t happen to have a spyglass on you, would you?” she asked softly. A brass tube entered her vision. She muttered a thanks as she pointed it towards the King’s newly commissioned flagship, spotting her captain overseeing his crew scuttling about, securing rigging and cleaning detritus from the decks.

Tandred.

Taelia felt a spark of hope for the first time in weeks upon the sight of the youngest Proudmoore. If anyone would have a lead on where Flynn was hiding, it would be Tandred.

She thrust the spyglass back into Swailes’ hands and took off down the gangplank, sprinting across the harbor, pushing as hard and fast as her clunky boots could carry her. She rounded onto the platform holding the plank to the _Melody_ , fighting to catch her breath. She heard the squeal of the wood against the stone, lifting her head to find Tandred before her.

“He’s not here, sweetheart,” the youngest Proudmoore said gently with a tilt of his head. His face was painted with sympathy.

“Look, Cyrus is on the verge of throwing him into a wall… _again_ , if we can’t get him back in form,” she said imploringly. “Just… _please_ , Tand, tell me where I can find him?”

Tandred looked at her quizzically. “You haven’t been fucking him again, have you?”

Taelia rolled her eyes, her blood setting to boil. “Tidemother fuck me, _why_ does everyone think that?!” she exclaimed in protest. She didn’t fail to notice Tandred’s hands going up in surrender “No, I have _not_ been fucking Flynn Fairwind! Would I be here, looking for him if I was?”

“Okay, _okay_ ,” the Admiralty captain soothed. “You have a point.” He folded his arms and sighed. “There’s a few joints that I know he’s been haunting, but I warn you, he’s not going to be thrilled about being forced to leave his barstool.”

“I don’t rightly _care_ , I just want my friend back.” She _needed_ him back.

They headed off toward Dampwick Ward first, checking the pubs and the card tables, coming up empty handed. They scoured Hook Point, checking the Loose Cannon and the Crab Shack, but he wasn’t there either. They made their way to the northern part of the city, finally finding the ex-pirate, practically laying across the bar at the Raven’s Flock close to the Ashvane Docks.

“Flynn,” Taelia whispered when she saw him. His duster hung limply on him, and his cheekbones were starting to show signs of protruding.

He hadn’t been eating.

Flynn barely lifted his head as they approached. “Fuck off, Tandred. I’m fine where I am, mate.”

“Not when I’ve got Taelia and Cyrus breathing down my neck, you’re not,” Tandred said evenly, casting a glance at the girl. 

Taelia came to his side, placing a hand against his cheek. He looked sallow and weak. “Come on, love,” she soothed. “You and I both know this isn’t helping him.”

The pirate tried to flinch her off, but his attempt was miscalculated and he nearly fumbled off his stool. Tandred was there quickly, scooping his arm over his shoulder and lifting Flynn’s dead weight to standing. Taelia slapped a coin on the bar and ducked under his other arm, the man in their arms passed out. They dragged him out into the afternoon breeze, thankful for the overcast threatening a storm later in the night.

“I can drag him off to the Keep,” Tandred said, shifting Flynn’s weight. “It’ll be closer than down to the harbor. Think you can go to his ship and grab his sea-bag?”

Taelia helped to push the man’s weight onto the younger man. “Yeah, I can pack a few things.” She watched as Tandred turned and began ushering her friend off to Proudmoore Keep.

When she reached the harbor, she ducked into the harbormaster’s office, reporting that she had found the captain and that his condition was dire. Cyrus huffed, but conceded to letting him take the time to heal. Taelia then stole off to the _Arva_ , briefing Swailes on the state of his captain and ducking into Flynn's cabin. She found his sea-bag and stuffed it with a few clean shirts, trousers and smallclothes, along with his shave kit and deck of cards. Her eyes fell upon a book on the nightstand, _Proper Harbingers_ , and tucked it into the sack before drawing the strings closed.

Taelia took one more look around the cabin. She nodded to herself, drawing a sharp breath before heading off to the gryphon roost where Galeheart was waiting for her.

@}-->\--

“ _One of the early entries in_ The Right and Detailed Foretellings _concerned Agatha Natter’s own death._

 _The Kingdom of Lordaeron, by and large, being a crass and indolent race, were not as keen on burning women as other countries in the Eastern Kingdoms. In Arathi, the bonfires were built and burned with regular, unabashed thoroughness…_ ”

Taelia balanced the book on her hip, glancing at her friend curled around her on the bed in the southeast chamber of Proudmoore Keep. Finding him peacefully asleep, not even one of his impressive snores passing his lips, she closed the book and placed it on the nightstand to the other side of her. She wriggled down, careful to not disturb his slumber. She felt him twitch, so she pushed his bangs off his face, gently stroking his hair until he calmed.

It had been three days since Tandred had dragged him to the Keep from the Ashvane docks. They had to fight him to change into fresh clothes and to drink water. He was still refusing food, but he had started to painfully sober up. Taelia stayed by his side, eventually crawling into the bed with him as they had done when she was small to chase away the terrors, reading when he was weary and playing rounds of Emperors when he was awake. His mood was still consistently maudlin, and Taelia took great care to keep any news or talk of Shaw minimal, if non-existant.

A cleared throat caused her to lift her head towards the door of the chamber, finding Jaina hovering at the threshold. She was shed of her uniform, dressed in a simple blue robe, the shoulders laced over a white shift and her hair down. “Can I come in?” she asked quietly and with caution. Taelia nodded, placing her hand on Flynn’s cheek.

“Flynn?” she whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open. “Jaina’s here.” He shifted in her arms, turning towards the Lord Admiral.

Jaina sat on his other side on the bed, taking his hand. She swallowed thickly as she looked at his calloused fingers gripping hers. “I received a message from Thrall- the War Council,” she amended. Taelia watched as the mage’s eyes lifted to Flynn’s, her mouth hinting at a soft smile. “Mathias was boarded onto a vrykul cargo ship headed for Stormwind yesterday.”

“Really?” his voice broke. Taelia felt relief pour over her, even as the captain’s breath quickened next to her. 

Jaina’s smile grew and she nodded. “He’ll be home in a few days,” she assured him. “The King has asked me to be there when the ship pulls into port. I wanted to see if you’d like to accompany me?”

A tear fell down the man’s cheek as he nodded furiously, struggling to sit up. Taelia let out a laugh as he kept glancing back and forth between the two giggling women. He bit his lip as the nodding subsided and he pulled his arms free of the blanket, slapping his hands at his sides. 

“Right then,” he said, grinning stupidly for the first time in weeks. Taelia threw her arms around his neck tightly. “What’s for breakfast?”

**Author's Note:**

> Book passage paraphrased from Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.
> 
> If you're bored in game and you're on Ally, seriously go poke around Hook Point. There's this whole little community there that is _So. Freaking. Cool._ All the shops mentioned are there, and yes, you can pet the umpteen doggos in the pet shop.
> 
> @bideru - I promised you a surprise. This isn't it. It's coming, I promise, hopefully tomorrow. /crosses fingers
> 
> So I have a plan. This has turned into an utter monster, and my writing journal has titles for at least four more parts. I promise to get back onto the linear continuity, but I have two more flashback oneshots to take care of. I've decided to just embrace Terror by Torchlight (yes, I still grumble about what I found in the first few paragraphs. Scarce seen you, my arse), at least for the sake of this series. 
> 
> Also, anyone else notice the little bit of Inception I laced in here? I was giggling hard about it.


End file.
